Page 78 of Patio Lanterns

“What’s the matter, Mutt? No faith I can handle a diaper change by myself?” She grabbed the wipes and a fresh diaper from the bag hanging on the doorknob. Then, she laid Nova onto a changing pad in the middle of the bed and gave her a stern talking to. “Now, you’re going to be a good girl for Bobbin. And that means no wiggling around and making this stinky poop situation worse than it has to be for either of us, okay?”

“Poop,” Nova echoed, shaking her head back and forth as Robin proceeded to remove her little pants.

“Tell me something I can’t smell.” Robin held her breath as she peeled back the tabs of Nova’s diaper. As she suspected, its contents were thick and nasty. “Good God, what has your mother been feeding you? Baked beans and cabbage soup?”

She wadded up the offending dirty diaper, using the tabs to seal it up tight. Then she wiped Nova clean and slipped a fresh diaper under her bottom. “Well, I don’t know what you were making such a fuss about, young lady. That really wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

Nova clapped her hands as Robin redressed her. Take a bow, Bobbin.

Just then, Mutt snatched the dirty diaper off the bed and took off with it in his jaws.

Gross!

“Mutt! Get back here!” she commanded.

So much for taking a well-deserved victory lap. Robin picked up Nova and hurried after Mutt, finding him at the bottom of the stairs with Aidan. “Could you grab that out of his mouth?”

Aidan made Mutt sit and the dog obediently offered up the disgusting bundle, its stinky, squishy contents hermetically sealed. Thankfully. But seriously, what was with Mutt and his love of all things malodorous?

Robin held out her hand and Aidan placed the diaper into her palm. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” he said. “Lark and Dove aren’t around, so I just wanted to let you know that the last cabinet door has been installed on the cupboards, but I’ll have to come back tomorrow to finish the pantry if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Thanks for getting that done before the party,” she said. “Is your dad with you?”

“No,” he said. “It’s weird. He hasn’t answered any of my texts from yesterday. And I drove by his place, and his Jeep’s not parked in the driveway.”

Rick hadn’t responded to the messages Robin had sent him last night either, nor the ones from before she went to work. It wasn’t like him to be incommunicado, so maybe he was having connectivity issues with his phone. Although it was definitely concerning that he didn’t appear to be home either.

Dove joined them, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Rob, please do something. Lark’s freaking out that there’s still no sign of the delivery truck.”

Great. No Rick. No delivery truck. And a shitload of people due to arrive in a couple of hours.

“Robin!” Lark called out as she stomped through the cottage. “It’s after six, and there’s still no ice. Or drinks. Or decorations.”

“I’m well aware of that, Lark, thank you. It’s all under control.” Robin handed Nova and the dirty diaper over to Dove. “I’ll go check my copy of the invoice, call the number, and find out what the driver’s ETA is.”

Aidan backed up. “I’ll try my dad again and see if he can come early. When the truck gets here, we’ll need all hands on deck to get everything unloaded.”

Good idea. Robin really needed BRE71 to calm her down and remind her that everything was going to be all right. And the sooner she laid eyes on him, the better. She pulled out her phone and texted him again.

Where are you?

I need you

Then she rushed to the dining room table, where she remembered leaving the order form a couple of days earlier. Everything had been cleaned away, all the piles of mail, every piece of paper. Spotless. In a hot panic, Robin’s eyes searched the room.

“Looking for this?” Lark asked, dangling the invoice by a corner.

“Yes, yes I was. Thank you.” Robin charged forward and snatched it away. The order she’d placed was detailed exactly as she had written it down. Drinks. Wine. Beer. Ice. Various finger foods and snacks. Plates and napkins. Outdoor lighting. It was all there in black and white, in her very own handwriting.

Robin scrutinized the sheet, her eyes quickly finding the ten-digit phone number under the address for Rite Quik Transfer in Barrie. It was little more than an hour’s drive. Then she spotted the office hours. Monday-Friday: Closed at 5:00 p.m.

Closed at Five?

Oh my God. They closed over an hour ago.

She inhaled deeply and tried to reassure Lark with a smile. “Think I’ll call from another room where it’s a bit more quiet.”

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